


This Mortal Coil

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Rush (2013)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Kissing, M/M, Shared experiences, Sharing a Bed, dark night of the soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 03:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: Monza, 1978: a pile-up results in the death of Ronnie Peterson, and Niki and James are both pallbearers at the funeral. Afterwards, James is clearly taking it hard and Niki’s initial attempts to reach out are angrily rebuffed. But James is soon at breaking point, and Niki is the only person who might just understand.





	This Mortal Coil

Funerals were never the most cheerful of gatherings, particularly when the deceased had been young and the circumstances awful, but the open bar had helped considerably and several hours into the wake the mood was, if not festive, at least more upbeat than it had been. 

Despite this, there was one person who seemed oblivious to the determined efforts of the rest to give Ronnie a good send off. James Hunt sat alone in a corner, alternately staring into space and glaring so fiercely at anyone who came near him that by now everyone was giving him a wide berth.

Watching him from across the room, Niki frowned. He'd frankly expected James to get messy-drunk and make a pass at the widow and had been half on the alert to prevent it. This was an unexpected development, and one that made him uneasy. James was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, so to be bottling up whatever was currently on his mind could hardly be good.

It had been a difficult week for all of them, and a cold, sobering day attending the funeral here in Sweden. Niki could still feel the weight of the coffin they'd carried, and flexed his fingers unconsciously. He'd escaped the devastating pile-up that had resulted in Ronnie's death by virtue of being at the front and out of the way, but James had been in the thick of it - had in fact pulled Ronnie from the wreckage. As far as Niki knew he hadn't said a word to anyone about it since.

He groaned inwardly, and braced himself to go over. James was his friend, and he owed it to him to see if everything was alright. 

Niki slid cautiously into the seat next to him and sat there for a moment in silence. James shot him a sideways look but said nothing, and it occurred to Niki that a little quiet company might be all he needed - but then he looked at the bitten nails and the restless movement of James' hands and knew he needed to try, even if got him a mouthful for his trouble.

"You okay?"

Another one of those dark sideways glances. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been nursing the same drink all night. It's not like you. I wondered if something was wrong." Niki hesitated. "If you needed someone to talk to?"

James turned on him with a look of such fury that Niki actually flinched.

"We've just buried a good friend, and you ask me what's wrong? I'm sad, okay? I'm sad and I'm upset and I wouldn't expect you to understand, because you've never had a fucking emotion in your life. I don't imagine anything pierces that icy little Teutonic heart of yours, does it? You're probably just working out how this improves your ranking. Fuck off and leave me alone." By now James was shouting, and the whole room fell silent as he stormed out of the door. 

Niki, who hadn't had a chance to get a word in let alone defend himself, sat there in shock as conversation gradually murmured back into life. James' accusations had been embarrassing as well as unfair, and he was grateful when Fittipaldi came over.

"What's eating James?"

"I don't know. That was what I was trying to find out."

"Looks like you hit a nerve." Emerson shrugged. "Best leave him be. Come and have a drink."

\--

Alone in his room, James shivered. They were staying in a hotel that looked like it had been once part Swedish castle, and it was chilly and oppressive. He tore off his restrictive black suit and the tie that felt like it was choking him and climbed into jeans and a warm sweater but even these felt cold and clammy, as if the miserable atmosphere had seeped into them.

By turns lying restlessly on the uncomfortable bed and pacing the room, James couldn't settle. He felt desperately lonely, and while he usually remedied this with alcohol and female company, tonight the thought of both sickened him. His other option when feeling low was normally to go and annoy Niki, but the chances of Niki being pleased to see him after his earlier outburst were pitiful to non-existent. 

One more thing to feel guilty about.

Another hour of gnawing emptiness and James couldn't bear it any longer. He needed human contact, even if it was an argument. 

He navigated his way down the dimly lit corridors to Niki's room and knocked. It was only when a bar of light clicked on beneath the door that James realised he had no idea how late it was. He'd been so wrapped up in his own preoccupations that it could have been anywhere between ten pm and three in the morning.

"James." Niki didn't look especially surprised to see him, and to James' relief he didn't look angry either. "Is everything alright?"

The concern, coming where James had expected hostility at best, nearly undid him. 

"I just - don't want to be on my own right now," he blurted lamely. 

Niki pushed the door wider. "You'd better come in then."

"Sorry to be a nuisance. Did I wake you?" James was relieved to see by the clock it was only a few minutes past midnight. 

"No. I'd only just gone to bed." Niki was in his pyjamas, and after a second's hesitation, climbed back under the covers. "I'd get in as well if I were you," he offered. "It's bloody freezing in this place."

"Thank God for that, I was starting to think it was just me." James kicked off his shoes and did as Niki suggested, climbing in next to him and pulling the thick blankets gratefully up to his waist.

"So." Niki glanced at him cautiously. "You want to talk yet? Or just company?" 

James muttered something inaudible, then gave a long defeated sigh. "I'm sorry Niki. I didn't mean what I said earlier." 

"I know," Niki said quietly. "It's been hard for all of us. Sometimes lashing out is the easiest thing. God knows I’ve been there myself."

James was silent for a long time, and this time Niki didn't push. 

"I just - it felt like I shouldn't be here," James admitted finally. "Like I didn't deserve to be."

"You pulled him out James. If it wasn't for you he would have died a far more horrible death."

"It was me that hit him in the first place," James said under his breath. "You know that. Everybody knows that."

"They also know Patrese hit you first. You couldn't prevent what happened. And you weren't the only one to hit him. The whole thing was a shit-show. A fuck up. But not your fuck up, James. None of it was your fault." Niki reached over and covered James' hand with his own. "Nobody blames you for what happened. I can tell you that."

James swallowed, taking a small amount of comfort from his words, but the guilt he felt was only a part of the things currently overwhelming him.

"The car was on fire," he said, still under his breath. "All I could think of was - " he looked up, searching Niki's scarred face, his eyes troubled. "Was you. I had to get him out of there."

"And you did." Niki was rubbing James' hand now. It felt cold beneath his own.

"I'm not afraid of dying," James said suddenly. "I suppose I'm afraid of - ending up a vegetable. Crippled. You didn't see him, Niki. His legs. I doubt he would have walked again even if he had survived, not for a long time, anyway. I don't want to end up like that."

"Nobody does. And yet every time we set out, we know it could end badly. We know the risks. The odds. And we still take them."

"I don't know if I can much longer," James confessed. "Would you hate me if I walked away from it all?"

Niki looked shaken. "Of course you must do what you feel is right for you. Nobody should race if their heart isn't in it. That is when mistakes will happen. But don't make decisions on a day like this. Sleep on it, at least."

"You throwing me out then?" James asked, resigned to the fact it was late, and after a long and harrowing day Niki probably wanted to get some rest.

"No." Niki shook his head. Somehow he was still stroking James' hand, and somehow James hadn't stopped him. "Stay. Sleep here tonight. You don't have to be alone."

"Well, I suppose it is cold," James murmured. "Would certainly be warmer." 

"Exactly." For the first time Niki was grateful for the chilly accommodation, letting James find a reason to accept the only comfort he could think to offer. Sometimes, it was enough just not to be alone.

James shuffled down beneath the covers as Niki turned out the light and settled beside him. 

"Do you ever get lonely?" James murmured, after a while lying next to him in the darkness.

"Sometimes," Niki admitted.

"You always seem so self-contained."

Niki sighed quietly. "It can be hard, this life. The only people who truly understand what you're going through are the people you're competing against. The very ones you daren't show any weakness to. You convince yourself, if they knew you were lonely, or scared, or sad - they could somehow use it against you. So everyone sits in their own little silos, nobody knowing if anyone else feels the same."

“Yes,” James said, sounding surprised. “That’s it exactly. The feeling that you can’t trust anyone with what you’re really thinking, so you imagine no-one else is thinking it. And the people you can trust are the ones who don’t understand. Can’t understand.”

"You can trust me, James," Niki said quietly.

"I can, can't I." James' voice was soft, and sleepy now. "And you can trust me, I hope?"

"Always." Niki shifted subtly closer; James could feel the warmth of him and the way the bed dipped, although they weren't quite touching. He could just make out the shape of him now as his eyes adjusted, light from the corridor filtering into the room under the door.

"Do you know the worst thing about today?" James asked. He hadn't meant to say this, hadn't wanted to bring up things that might be painful for Niki to think about, but the darkness seemed to invite confidences and there were still things eating at him.

"Tell me." 

"I suddenly knew how I would have felt. If - if it had been you. If you hadn't recovered. How much worse it would have been, if I’d been carrying _your_ coffin." James' voice cracked on the last part, and Niki moved closer still and put his arms around him. With a convulsive movement James clung to him, feeling hot tears prickling in his eyes and blinking them back fiercely, thanking God that it was dark and Niki couldn't see.

"I'm here." Niki held him close. "It's alright."

"It's not alright," James protested, face buried in the angle of Niki's neck, the words coming out almost as sobs. "Ronnie's dead, and - and - "

"And it's a terrible thing, and a shocking thing," Niki said quietly. "And at the same time, you are glad it wasn't you, and you feel guilty for that. And perhaps you are glad it wasn't me also, and you feel disloyal for that. But both are okay things to privately think, and nobody else has to know them." 

"How can you know what I'm thinking?" James mumbled, sounding bewildered rather than accusatory.

"Because I am thinking these things as well." Niki hugged him, briefly, tightly. "When I saw the flames, and realised you were caught up in what was happening - " 

He shuddered, remembering. It had all happened so quickly, and the period before seeing that James was relatively unharmed had been mercifully brief. But there'd still been a moment of utter frozen horror, the memory of which wasn't going away any time soon.

"I'm glad it wasn't you." Niki whispered it against James' hair like a confession. 

"Niki." James lifted his head, voice strained and desperate. 

Neither of them was ever quite sure, afterwards, exactly who had kissed who. But somehow they came together in a kiss that was almost frantic in its intensity, lips crushed together, tongues hot in each other's mouth. It went on for some time, gradually softening into something warmer but no less needed. 

Part of the reason it went on so long was down to the fact they knew as soon as they stopped they'd have to confront the fact of what they'd just done. Eventually though it drew to a natural end, and resting their foreheads together as they slowly caught their breath, it seemed perhaps no words were necessary after all.

Once they realised the other wasn't about to react badly to what had just happened, they relaxed almost at the same moment, and James pulled Niki into a spontaneous and this time purely platonic hug. 

At the same time a yawn caught him by surprise, and James stifled it with his hand.

"Sleep now?" Niki said softly. Part of him wouldn't have objected if James had wanted to pursue things, but he accepted that it was probably a bad idea, particularly while both of them were in such a vulnerable state of mind.

"Yes." James smiled in the dark, grateful that after everything Niki didn't want him to leave after all. "Night Niki."

"Goodnight James." Niki smiled too, and although neither of them could really see each other, they could sense it.

They lay down again, not exactly in each other's arms, but not quite separately either, eyes already drifting closed.

There would be time later to examine what had just happened between them, to decide if it had been borne simply of a mutual need for comfort and reassurance, or whether there might have been more behind it. 

And whether, in happier circumstances, they might want to do it again.

\--


End file.
